At the traffic light
Of my life,
When you caressed my hair
And touched me
Through slits of my cherry shirt
With gentle silky finger,
As if there were a rose framed
In each small window on my arm —
I drank your sounds deep
Of awakening roses,
Light flowed sky blue
From your eyes
And flooded all
The shimmering tongues
At the source
Of my being.
By Anonymous